And such communion hath he in that hour
With human hearts wherein he entereth,
That if into thy bosom he shall creep,
So strange a joy shall pass into thy flesh,
As if himself were seated in thy breast.
Then shalt thou shake with the first throb of love
That knows what love is; love is sacrifice
Of all that love holds dear unto itself,
Even to the extinction of its hopes, its life,
So that its object live, complete and fair,
Its nature out to its own loveliness
Of act and being." "Thou hast told my tale,
As if myself had emptied all my heart,"
The Roamer said; and over them swift night
Came in the striding shadow of eclipse
Upon the desert sands. "The light? the light?"
The Roamer said; "the light divine?" "The light?"
Came the grave answer, "from thyself it flows;"
And, in the dark, a soft, dull radiance,
Such as in Italy the glow-worm sheds
On the green leaf, or the dim fireflies flash,
By thousands glimmering in the darkened fields,
Stole gleaming o'er his form, his feet, his hands;
With tremors coursed, he on his left arm propped
Rose kneeling, and within he was aware